


the petals between us

by sooblushes



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (Loosely Inspired by Tangled), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, Baekhyun the Talking Corgi, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fairy Tale Elements, Handwaving, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Modern Royalty, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy, Suspension of Disbelief Required
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-13 05:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18025304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sooblushes/pseuds/sooblushes
Summary: Growing up isolated on an island, Kyungsoo has never known a life beyond his talking corgi, his puppies, and his flowers. When a tall, well-muscled stranger accidentally stumbles into his life and (begrudgingly, unwillingly) offers a chance for him to escape, he takes it.A modern fairy tale AU inspired loosely by Tangled.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> trying out a longfic...it starts off a little slow, but it will pick up once chansoo meet (and the tone will get lighter)!

In a distant past, many, many centuries ago, there lived a god named Haemosu. Haemosu was the first son of the Heavenly Emperor, and he was revered by all beings who existed in the three realms of the Earth. He was known for his power over the Sun, and like the Sun, Haemosu would descend from the heavens and upon the realm of the mortals every morning. It was said that he would arrive in his Five Dragon Chariot, pulled along by nitrous fire and the winds and clouds. His arrival would mark the light of a new day, and the warmth of the Gods was blessed upon the coolness of the Earth upon his descent. When evening came, Haemosu would saddle into his chariot, and ascend back into the heavens, taking the warmth of the Sun with him.

It was during one of Haemosu’s walks amongst the living that he spotted a fair maiden—fairer than any celestial being he had come across before—weaving together a crown of flora amidst a golden field. Her dark hair shone in the bright sunlight, her face small and round, her nose petite and rounded at the tip. What drew the Sun God in, however, were her wide, round eyes and beautifully rosy lips. Haemosu stood there, silently observing this maiden, shrouded amongst the mists of the wind and clouds, until she had completed her floral crown, and it was with joy and pride that she gently placed the crown upon her locks. Her smile was absolutely wondrous, pink lips curving out into a heart-shaped grin and her eyes fluttering into a crescent that had Haemosu envying the Moon for its silhouette. And then it was so, that Haemosu fell in love.

The Sun God decided he would make his love known at once, and that he would have her immediately. He stepped out from the mists and into the soils of the mortal realm, revealing himself to the young maiden in that instant. With deep passion, he declared his love and devotion to her.

Startled by his sudden presence and revelation, she turned tail and flee, her delicate floral crown falling into the golden field as she escaped. Of course, as the Sun God, he could have easily chased after her—but he was Haemosu, and Haemosu held himself in dignity. Instead, he absconded back into the mists and stretched his powers and spirit throughout the planes of the realm until he found his love once more.

For the next few days, Haemosu followed her around. He learned of her name—Samshin—and that she was the young daughter, still of only one and twenty, to a millet cultivator. Like the day he found her, Samshin loved flowers, and would often sit alone in the fields, braiding necklaces and bracelets and crowns out of petals and stems. Her creations were nearly as beautiful as her, intricate but delicate. But most days, she helped her father with harvesting the grains, feeding her two young sisters, and tending her ailing mother. She would venture into the small village at the foot of the mountains, and barter grains for vegetables, but the soil was barren on the island and any crops besides Samshin’s golden flowers had difficulties flourishing. On these days, Samshin would head home empty-handed, or with a mere few weedlings to show for her hardships. Many days would go by, and Haemosu would watch as the family struggled to eat their fill. He witnessed their sorrows, the way Samshin would quietly sob into her beddings at night, and he felt in himself, for the first time, the feeling of pain. He ached to watch his loved one suffer, and he longed to soothe her.

After one particularly difficult day, Haemosu showed himself to her once more. Samshin had been walking down the mountain by way of her usual rocky route, and was nearly at the foot of the mountain when she spotted a great figure at the end of the path. There Haemosu was, adorned in the feathers of crows, his stature grand and proud. With a booming voice, loaded with spectacular power, Haemosu proposed a solution to her.

If Samshin agreed to take his hand in marriage, he would gift her family with bountiful harvest. Not only would her millet farmer father no longer struggle with his crops, but they would be left with enough produce to feed the entire village. Her mother will no longer lay in her sickbed, cured by the richness of the vegetables, and her sisters would have the energy to eat a full portion each. Every year’s harvest would be greater than the last, and she would never have to worry for her family again.

But to his great astonishment, she refused him. 

“I am betrothed,” she told him. She was trembling, her knuckles white with how tightly she gripped her woven basket. But she stood firm, her small face turned upwards in pride and beautiful heart-shaped lips turned downwards. “I have a lover, and he is currently away on a quest. But he will be back soon.”

Haemosu drew himself even taller, towering over the young maiden. He looked down his nose at her. “Your betrothal means nothing to me, my love. I can offer you all the wealth and abundance in the world, I can give you the Sun if you so wish. I can bring your family from starvation and heal your sickly mother. All you need to do is to stay with me, forever.”

Samshin quivered before him. Here there was, a great Sun God before her, offering a solution to the plague haunting her family and village for months now. She was afraid of her family’s future, and knew that if she accepted his hand in marriage, she would no longer have to be afraid for their fates. 

But she remained afraid for her own.

And it was true, that she was in love. She had met strong and handsome Yongwang many moons ago, whose love for her and her love for him seemed to germinate within the soils of their Earth, for crops had been plenty when he was still here. And he had left at the beginning of winter, promising for his swift return as soon as he gained approval from his family for their marriage. Before he left, he had promised eternal devotion to her and she wanted nothing more but to do the same. 

It killed her to have to choose between a secured fate for her family or towards the uncertain future with Yongwang. But she could not and would not betray herself, her love, her desires.

“I am betrothed,” she restated. “And I _will_ toil as hard and for as long as I need to until the crops are growing once more and my family is fed. We have survived this long, and we will survive longer. I will not let them perish, and I will not sacrifice myself and my body to you.”

Haemosu was not happy with her response, but for that day, he acquiesced to her demand. There was a joy for him to chase after her, and he did not mind waiting just a little longer. It would only be a matter of time until she gave in, until the drought had forced her hand and she would come, willingly, to him instead.

But before that day came, Yongwang arrived at the island. He came by boat, a journey that took days and nights, but he had arrived safe and healthy against all odds. Upon descending the boat, Yongwang immediately ventured up the mountain, counting his steps until he arrived at the doorstep of Samshin. With great joy, he greeted her at her door, and the two lovers kissed fondly as Haemosu watched on. The Sun God was stewing now, his anger rising in increments as he watched the young couple and their unruly, uncouth behaviour.

Still, he did nothing. He was sure that she would soon seek him out, as the winter dragged on and the soil remained barren. He just needed for her to be desperate, and then he would save her.

Against all odds, however, the crops began growing again. Even in the winter, they bloomed. It was as if Yongwang, in his return to the island, had brought with him goodwill and abundance. The village rejoiced, and most of all amongst them, Samshin and her loved ones as well. It felt as if they were finally able to live in happiness now, and taking in the new harvest as a blessing from the heavens, Samshin and Yongwang secured their engagement and were set to marry.

Throughout all of this, Haemosu quaked in anger. How could this _mortal man_ come in and steal away his beloved? Samshin was his, and he could not bear to witness another man take his rightful place.

In his fury, Haemosu cast a great curse across the land. For one hundred days and one hundred nights, Haemosu ordered for ten Suns to arise together in the sky. The ten Suns would burn so brightly, stronger than even his own chariot, that all greens and grains in the realm would be scorched. He would raze this Earth, if it was out of his twisted love.

Under his decree, ten Suns rose each day. The fire from their rays burned the land to a crisp, and all crops were destroyed. The waters seemed to recede, more than before, and the land was left scorched, starving and desolate. No one, not a single living being, human or animal, was excused from this reign of terror. It was a time of suffering and great depression. Samshin and her family wept at their loss, and she sought comfort in Yongwang’s arms when it seemed as if her mother would not make it another day.

Out of desperation, Yongwang clasped at his lover’s hands, gripping them tight inside his own palms. He had heard of a legend about this island on his journey here, and while he wasn’t sure how true it was, he wasn’t sure they had any other choice but to try.

“There is an old lady, a shaman, and I hear she lives deep within these mountains. The men on our boat told me that in desperate times, you may ask her for guidance and support and as long as you prove that you are worthy of her assistance, she will grant you what you need.”

Of course, Samshin, too, had heard of this legend. But the mountain was steep and rocky, and the burning Suns would scorch them without adequate protection. But what choice did she have? What will did she have to live if her poor mother passed?

After a night of preparation, both Samshin and Yongwang set out to explore the depths of the mountain. They bundled themselves up in as many layers of protective clothing as possible to shield themselves from the Suns’ rays, but not too much that they would pass from heat exhaustion. And the journey was not easy, and Samshin was convinced that she would die before they would find the shaman’s dwellings, or before they gave up and retraced their steps back home—and she nearly did not make it. Bogged down from the layers of clothing, bearing the brunt of the heat waves, exhaustion was setting down upon her and their water supply was running dangerously low. Yongwang had taken to carrying her weight up the mountain, in addition to their belongings, and each step felt like yet another nail in the coffin. He wept and prayed to the Gods for help, and it seemed as if his prayers were unanswered until suddenly, he found a dark cave that miraculously remained damp and cool despite the scorching air.

Yongwang had only just gently laid down his lover, wiping delicately at her brow, when he heard an old voice croak out from behind him.

“You must be Yongwang, and that must be Samshin.” It was an elderly lady, stooped low with a bent back and creaky knees. Her hair was scraggly and grey, and her face had wrinkles so deep, it felt as if they were stone etchings. She supported herself with a wooden cane that looked to have been made from the trees on the mountain.

Astonished, Yongwang stared back at her. He had no energy left, and could not muster the strength to greet her properly.

“I had felt that you were coming,” she said. She slowly ambled towards Samshin, who was lying unconscious on the ground, and held out her hand with a small object in her palm for Yongwang to take. Gingerly, he accepted her proffered gift and looked down. It was a vial of unknown substance, and he looked back at her in confusion.

“Have your Samshin drink this, and you too. You will regain your strength back.”

At her urging, and feeling as if he had no other choice, Yongwang listened to the elder’s words. With amazement, feeling returning back to his sore feet, the blisters closing over, the burns on his hands from the sun soothing over, and his throat no longer felt parched. When he looked down at Samshin, he found that her colour was returning rapidly and she was shifting now, eyes fluttering as she was brought back to consciousness. 

This was no ordinary shaman.

As if she could hear and understand his thoughts, the elderly woman smiled. She had no teeth, but Yongwang found that he was not put off by the gumminess of her grin. “You’re right,” she said. 

But before Yongwang could react, he heard a small cough coming from Samshin. Quickly, he bent to support her and sat her up. She blinked, gingerly holding onto Yongwang for support, as she took in her surroundings.

“Where…?”

“My name is Hanla-halmi, God of Yeongjusan, Protector of Spirits and Life on this mountain.”

Samshin and Yongwang could only stare in shock. A God?

“I heard your cries for help. This island is dying, all because of a foolish God. I will help you, but only if you prove you are worthy of help,” she said. She took a hard look at the two humans before nodding. She then held out a hand, fingers closed and facing downwards, and when Samshin and Yongwang opened their palms up to her, she dropped a small golden petal in each of their palms. “For ten days, you must eat this flower, and only this flower. If you succeed, then I will restore the nature of your island as it should be. If you fail, then there is nothing I can do to help you.” 

Then, suddenly, the God began receding back into the shadows until only the echoes of her voice remained. “Today marks your first day.”

And for those ten days, both Samshin and Yongwang stayed in the dark cave, still cooler than it should be thanks to the powers of Hanla-halmi. Each day, they ate one flower each. The flower would miraculously appear once more every morning, and so they persevered. Through hunger and thirst, through the anxieties and worries of their loved ones back home, and the state of the village, they put all their hopes in this one task. It felt hopeless, silly, but still, they carried themselves through those ten days with nothing but a single petal to nourish them.

On the tenth day, Hanla-halmi reappeared. Her physical form was as worn and stooped as she had appeared ten days earlier, but now, there was a golden glow around her. When she spoke, her voice carried and boomed through the cave.

“Congratulations. Samshin, Yongwang, you have successfully passed the trial. In reward for your perseverance, I will grant you your wishes and restore this land to its natural state. The Sun God will not be able to harm you in this realm again.” 

And then, she vanished.

When Samshin and Yongwang left the cave, they found that the ten Suns were not only gone, replaced by merely the one, but the land was now fertile and the water was plenty and fresh. It took a full day’s journey, but when they returned to their home, they found their crops growing and their mother as healthy as she could be.

The whole village rejoiced and celebrated this momentous occasion. Never again did their crops diminish, nor did their water levels falter. Starvation was no longer a problem for as long as Yongwang and Samshin were alive, and they all—as they say—lived happily ever after.

When the couple finally passed away in old age, they were met with Hanla-halmi once more in the gates of the afterlife. As recognition and commendation for their noble deeds during mortality, she gave them a gift each. For Samshin, she was assigned the most dignified post as the Guardian of the Seocheon Flower Field, situated between life and the afterlife, where the most beautiful flowers holding immense power of life and death bloomed for eternity. For Yongwang, he was decreed the Dragon King and was given the power to rule over water and weather.

“And,” the God said, smiling widely at the Guardian of the Seocheon Flower Field and the Dragon King. “Descendants will henceforth possess a great power at their hands.”

And then she disappeared once more, leaving behind a single golden petal in her stead.

* * *

🌻

_Two millenia later…_

Queen Hwayoung would never forget the skies on the day she found out she was with child for a second time. 

She had sent the nursemaid to inform her husband immediately as he had gone out for a morning stroll in their gardens, and had yet to return. As she waited, she stood out on the balcony from their grand master bedroom, one arm cradling little Crown Prince Junmyeon, the other resting on her belly, still as flat as it had been. But she knew now that a life was growing inside of her, and instead of the frenetic anxiety she felt when she was carrying Junmyeon, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. Perhaps it was the experience, the knowledge that she had gone through a pregnancy before and that she could do it again. But something else had settled inside her, something warm and soothing. Under the forget-me-not blue skies, she gazed out the palace courtyard, and felt as if something beautiful was happening.

As if he felt it too, little Junmyeon giggled, his tiny palms coming up and patting gently at his mother’s face.

“Yes,” she said. She smoothed a hand over her son’s wispy tuff of hair. His birthday was only last week, and he had just turned two years old. “You will be an older brother soon, Junmyeonnie.”

Little Junmyeon giggled again. She shifted his weight in her arms—he was getting heavier now as he grew, but it felt like just yesterday when he weighed three kilograms. He smacked his lips and gurgled out a word that sounded to “mom.”

Queen Hwayoung smiled, and she pinched gently at his cheek. “You will take care of them, won’t you?”

Junmyeon shrieked out a “yes,” his tiny fists flailing in excitement. She patted his little head and kissed his pudgy cheek. 

Behind her, the door opened, and King Jaeyong walked into the room. Years of being king taught him to walk with purpose, and it was no different now, as he strode swiftly into the room and to her side. When he reached her, he leaned over and kissed her on both cheeks before taking Junmyeon out of her arms and pecking his forehead. Side-by-side, it was clear that Junmyeon had taken after his father’s features more than hers. Their eyes were the same—dark and piercing—and their mouths as well. He got her eyebrows, something Jaeyong had joked about being grateful for as the King had quite the eyebrows. But Hwayoung wouldn’t have minded. Junmyeon would have been perfect to her, no matter what.

She wondered who her second child would take after. Would they inherit her round eyes and round cheek? Her calm and serious demeanour? Or would they be like Junmyeon and Jaeyong, with their kind faces and precociousness? 

Her husband stood by her side, cooing over his son as he waited for her to speak. The nurse must have informed him that she had quite serious news, or perhaps he sensed something in the way she was carrying herself, but she was grateful all at once for his unfailing patience with her. Although she was ecstatic about her pregnancy, it was not a planned one.

She took a deep breath and grasped at his hand, intertwining their fingers together. He looked at her, and squeezed at her hand gently. 

“I’m pregnant.”

Hwayoung watched as her husband broke out in a smile, his eyes shining as he gripped at her hand.

“Are you really?” he asked. His eyes were curved into crescents from the force of his smile, and when she nodded, he pulled her into a kiss while cradling Junmyeon carefully into his chest. They embraced each other, relishing in the shared warmth. Between them, Junmyeon giggled once more and babbled excitedly. And for a few moments, as they took in the revelation, they stood there just like that, just the three of them, staring off into the calming blue skies.

* * *

🌻

  


Do Kyungsoo was born on January 12—a cool winter day that left the skies a murky grey and a chilly breeze that left your fingertips icy and teeth chattering. But for the royal family, the day could not have been any more perfect. Junmyeon was quite adept at walking now, his pudgy little legs pattering excitedly up to Hwayoung’s bedside where she rested on her comfiest pillows as she cradled the little prince to her chest. He was tiny and wrinkly, his face still red from screaming his little head off. But he was perfect.

Jaeyong stooped down and swept Junmyeon into his arms, and climbed onto the bed. “Junmyeon,” he whispered. “Meet your little brother. His name is Kyungsoo.”

“Kyungsoo!” Junmyeon yelled out. He reached his stubby arms out and made grabby motions towards the baby, frantic little motions that had both parents laughing in fondness. “Kyungsoo!”

“That’s right, his name is Kyungsoo. Take care of him well, Junmyeonnie. You’re his big brother now,” Hwayoung said. Her heart filled up as she watched Junmyeon lean in and smother a wet kiss onto Kyungsoo’s cheek. Kyungsoo scrunched his nose in response.

“My Kyungsoo!” Junmyeon said. He grabbed one of Kyungsoo’s balled up fists and stared, in awe, at how tiny he was even in comparison to himself. The baby was so small, little Junmyeon had no idea how Kyungsoo could be out in the world without getting _smushed_ , and his eyes welled up at the thought. His parents rushed to soothe him, wiping his tears away as they made soft shushing noises. He wanted to explain his fears to them, but found he had no words to do so, and only cried harder as he held onto his little brother’s hand. 

“Look at that, Hwayoung,” the King said as he gently rocked Junmyeon in his arms. “The kid is already acting like his little guardian.”

She looked at Jaeyong’s fond little smile as he wiped Junmyeon’s snotty nose, and at Kyungsoo’s tiny little features, and found herself smiling as an overwhelming love swept through her for her family.

* * *

🌻

  


As the Korean peninsula became increasing embroiled in the growing tensions between North and South Korea following the end of the Cold War merely two years prior, King Jaeyong and Queen Hwayoung found themselves increasingly occupied with the political affairs of the state. As a constitutional monarchy, they often had meetings with the executive and legislative branches of the government. Day in and day out, they met with various government officials and diplomats, working hard to reach solutions on how to handle the poor relations with North Korea. 

Unlike when Junmyeon had been born, the King and Queen had found themselves with less time to spend during the day with little Prince Kyungsoo. Although it was to their greatest regret that Hwayoung often did not have the time to nurse him herself, they decided to fully invest in hiring household staff to tend to the two princes’ needs—particularly Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo was only a year old now, and was much smaller than Junmyeon had been at his age. It worried Hwayoung a little, to see her darling baby so tiny and fragile, but Jaeyong often assured her that he was well protected within the walls of the Royal Palace, where they resided within the capital city’s borders. Hwayoung had wanted to return to their property on Jeju Island—where she originally was from—thinking that the warmth of the island would be good for the family. But they had ties to Seoul now that could not be ignored, not above the rest of their duties.

It was under this unstable condition of the state that Choi Seungwon was hired on to care for the two little princes. He had undergone a heavy vetting process, and had sworn an oath to remain forever loyal to the state. Seungwon came heavily recommended from his previous position as a housekeeper for Duke Eunhyuk’s own household, and it was a role that he, himself, felt proud of.

Caring for the two boys came easy for him. Crown Prince Junmyeon was independent for his age, often taking initiative to take care of his little brother even though he was only two years older. He took his role as Kyungsoo’s older brother seriously, and loved babying the little prince. He was quite talkative at four years old and spent much of his time babbling incessantly at a quiet Kyungsoo who preferred to cuddle soft blankets and stuffed animals. They were both quite clingy, and it was not rare to find one next to the other, usually holding hands. Seungwon had quickly learned that the Queen was often quite worried about Kyungsoo, who was quite small for his age and much more quiet than Junmyeon had been. But he had been the main caretaker for all of Duke Eunhyuk’s five children and knew that it wasn’t any cause for concern yet, and that Kyungsoo would grow into his own.

On one particularly fine day, Junmyeon had begged Seungwon to let them play in the palace courtyard. He stamped his feet petulantly until Seungwon agreed. Chuckling in amusement, Seungwon slung the heavy diaper bag over his shoulder and strapped Kyungsoo into the Baby Bjorn on his chest. He grabbed Junmyeon’s small hand in one hand and, together, they headed out the door. The courtyard in question was located in the centre of the complex, much further away from any potential unwanted visitors who could come in around the perimetre of the property, and Seungwon decided it would be a nice enough treat to himself, and to the boys, to take one of the slightly longer routes through his favourite garden. 

The garden was located closest to the south wing of the property, and even in the winter, it was absolutely breathtaking. The glossy pinks and reds of Japanese camellia lined the paved path that winded through the barren branches of gingko trees, brightening up the castle. Fairy lights were strung up along the branches, and their warm glow made the winter feel all the more welcoming. In the centre of the garden was a small pond filled with Koi and a gazebo with heated seats. On the drier days of winter, before the snow hits Seoul too hard, Seungwon always enjoyed taking the boys there. If it was a particularly good day, he would even treat Junmyeon to his special homemade hot chocolate—Kyungsoo was far too young still.

A whine came from Kyungsoo, breaking Seungwon out from his musings. The baby gurgled a little, and his tiny hands curled into little fists, and then his whines suddenly turned into loud crying as tears rolled down his chubby little face. His heart-shaped lips, inherited from the Queen, were twisted in displeasure. Seungwon fumbled for the diaper bag. The only time the young prince ever cried that loudly was when he was hungry.

He felt a tugging coming from his left as Junmyeon shook his hand urgently. “Mister Seungwon, Kyungsoo is hungry!” he shouted.

“I know, just a second, please,” he said patiently. He must have been too careless when he was packing the diaper bag earlier, because the zipper was now caught. He tugged forcefully at the zipper, trying to ease it back open so he could grab the bottle he had prepared for Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo’s cries grew louder, and Junmyeon shook his hand again. “Mister!” he cried.

“I know, I know,” he said placatingly. He tugged at the zipper again, this time adding more pressure. It budged slightly before getting stuck again. Seungwon cursed in his head, pulling at the zipper again and again, until finally, it gave and the bag unzipped. “Finally—”

But before Seungwon could finish his sentence, one of the buckles on the baby carrier suddenly came undone from the jostling and the straps loosened from its hold around Kyungsoo. As if in slow motion, Seungwon watched in dawning horror as Kyungsoo slipped from the baby carrier and fell sharply towards the paved road underneath his feet, his cries hitting at a higher and louder pitch that Seungwon had never heard from the baby before. Instant images flashed through his mind, of what the aftermath of what a sharp fall would mean for a baby, fear striking deep inside him and rattling his bones from his core, his mind thrown into a whirlwind of _oh god_ the blood, the baby, _no, no, no, no, no_. He couldn’t breathe, and he jumped forward as his heart leaped into his throat, a sharp cry leaving him, as he scrabbled clumsily to try and catch the baby, and he could hear, too, that Junmyeon was screaming next to him, but his hands only swept uselessly at the air—it was too late, he couldn’t catch Kyungsoo, he had reacted too late, too slow, and now Kyungsoo was falling, and falling, and _falling_ —

—and then to Seungwon’s amazement, he watched as the ground underneath cracked open and green vines slithered through the gaps like snakes, reaching as high as Seungwon’s knees. Small buds grew on the vines, and within seconds, they bloomed into beautifully vibrant red flowers. As if they had minds of their own, the vines interlocked with each other, forming a thick and dense canopy of flowers that was the size of a cot, if not bigger. 

Kyungsoo landed safely in the bed of flowers without bouncing off, cradled by the red petals and vines that strangely seemed to support him off the ground.

Seungwon gaped at the scene. It had all happened so fast—it took only seconds—and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He stood there in shock. Junmyeon reacted immediately, and ran towards his younger brother, hugging him close to his chest as he sobbed loudly. But Kyungsoo only giggled, no trace of tears in his face, as his hands grabbed at the vines underneath him. His cheeks bunched up as he smiled happily, seemingly at home from his perch within the blooming flowers. And at a closer glance, Seungwon realized that they were Japanese camellias, the same flowers that made this particular garden unique. 

Finally, he snapped out of his daze and ran towards the two boys. He checked over Kyungsoo for any injuries, any signs that he was less than okay, but there were no traces of the danger he was in just seconds before. With disbelief, Seungwon swept them both into his arms, his heart still racing and he suddenly realized how clammy he was. His shirt was sticking to his back, and his palms were sweaty, but he ignored it all as he pressed Kyungsoo and Junmyeon close to his chest to calm his own uneven heartbeat. Junmyeon was still crying, calling out his parents’ names desperately as he clung to his younger brother, but Kyungsoo only seemed confused at the situation. 

Seungwon didn’t understand what had happened. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen. It was…it was like _magic_ , the way the flowers grew so suddenly, but magic _wasn’t real_. But he didn’t allow himself time to dwell on it further, gathering both boys up into his arms and quickly carrying them back inside the palace. Their safety was his priority, and being outside didn’t feel as safe anymore. He took them into their shared bedroom and sat them both on Junmyeon’s bed, where Kyungsoo flopped onto his belly and began tugging at his sobbing brother’s toes. He tried his best to comfort the inconsolable boy, but he, too, felt as lost and confused as the Crown Prince was.

Later that day, Seungwon relayed the garden incident to Queen Hwayoung and King Jaeyong. They were horrified of the situation, and immediately called upon the Royal Doctor to check on their children. After they made sure that their sons were both safe, Junmyeon finally calming down in his parents’ arms, it was late. Usually, Seungwon would be in bed, but the King and Queen requested that he joined them in their office. They sat Seungwon down and explained to him the legend of Samshin and Yongwang. It was a legend he heard before, one of the many folktales that his mom used to tell him when he was growing up.

Hwayoung sipped at her tea, setting the cup back down on the table with a quiet _clink_. She looked into Seungwon’s eyes, assessing him slowly. She exchanged a glance with her husband before seeming to come to a decision. “I’m a descendant of Samshin and Yongwang.”

For the second time that day, Seungwon found himself dumbfounded. “What?”

“Of course it has been many generations, and the line has long become diluted. But I am a descendant of Samshin and Yongwang. The magic they were gifted—it’s all real.”

“Then, the flowers from today. That was all Kyungsoo?” Seungwon asked. He had a hard time comprehending what the Queen was telling him. 

Hwayoung nodded. “I believe so. The magic doesn’t manifest in everyone with blood ties to the legend. My great-grandmother was the only person I knew who had this power. Neither me nor Junmyeon, it seems, have been gifted. But Kyungsoo, it must have manifested because his life was threatened today.”

“What exactly can he do with his powers?”

“Generally speaking, he has control over all plants. But from what my great-grandmother taught me, the capabilities and limitations depends on the person. My great-grandmother, she was only able to grow flowers out of nothing, much like Kyungsoo did today. But I’ve had ancestors who were capable of much, much more. As Kyungsoo grows older, he will learn what he can do.”

Seungwon mulled her words over in his mind, silent as he took the time to process what she was telling him. From what he remembered, the version of the legend that his mother told him had left Samshin with the ability to grow flowers that could decide between one’s life or death when consumed. In another version he had heard over the years, Samshin was given the ability to grant even immortality through her flower field. Even confronted with the possibilities of all _this_ , Seongwon could not believe it. Magic…existed. Magic was real, and he witnessed it firsthand today.

“What can we do to support him, then?” he asked.

But the Queen only smiled wistfully. “There’s not much more we can do but to love him and teach him what we can. I have tomes that have been passed through my family for generations, and that will help him understand himself more. But it’s more important for us to protect him, to guide him in being kind and good.” She explained the dangers of exposing the truth about Kyungsoo’s abilities to the world, and her fears about the kinds of people it would attract. It was to be kept a secret.

Seungwon nodded. He could understand their fears well.

A month later, Seungwon received his monthly letter from his brother, Siwon. As they were twins, they had always been close growing up. But they had less time to meet now, as Siwon worked as a baker in a smaller town on the outskirts of the city. They tried calling each other on the landline when they could, but their schedules did not line up easily. He read over the letter quickly, detailing the most recent events in his brother’s life, and was dismayed to find out that they were mostly negative. It seemed as though his bakery wasn’t doing well; business was often slow and much of his bread had to be tossed out at the end of the day. His brother had always been the ambitious sort. Maybe a little greedy, but Seungwon saw it as evidence of his commitment to succeeding in life. He had dropped much of his life’s expenses on starting the bakery in his entrepreneurial pursuits, and it looked as though it wasn’t paying off. 

_I hope the tides turn for me soon. I pray you have more positive and exciting things to talk about to lift my spirits, Seungwon_ , his brother wrote.

Seungwon grabbed a piece of stationary and a pen and began writing his letter.

_I’m sorry to hear that business has been poor. I can try and send you some extra funds to pad your wallet and bank a little more, but there’s not much more I can do, and for that, I’m really sorry. I’m sure you will get your lucky break soon! You have worked hard and perhaps business is only slow for now as we recover from the Cold War. I have faith in you, Siwon, and in your business._

_Work has been going well for me. The two boys are growing up well. Junmyeon has been quite clingy towards Kyungsoo lately—even clingier than normal, if you can believe—and Kyungsoo has been babbling a bit more. He’s been more excitable lately, which pleases the Queen greatly. They’re both adorable and well-behaved, although Junmyeon is slightly more prone to throwing tantrum. He’s a good older brother though, and will often refuse to eat until he sees Kyungsoo is being fed as well. He shares well, which is amazing, because I remember you were always the worst when it cames to sharing toys when we were growing up. His parents have been instilling good values in them both already, and even though they’re so young, I think they will be good kids. As their main caretaker amongst the household staff, I bear a lot of responsibility for their care so I hope I will do a good job as well._

_Actually, to tell you the truth, we had quite the scare last month. I don’t know what happened or how, but I was taking the kids for a walk through one of the gardens one day and the clasps on the baby carrier came undone. I can’t even use words to describe how terrified it was, watching Kyungsoo free-fall from where he was held up against my chest. A million images had flashed through my mind, all of them bloodier than the last…I can feel myself sweating just thinking about it again. I hope to never experience a moment like that again. Thank God, though, thank God because Kyungsoo somehow survived the fall without so much as a scratch. He seems okay now…but poor Junmyeon still gets nightmares about it sometimes. We tossed out the carrier immediately, but I worry a little about it happening again…_

_I…shouldn’t be telling you this either, but I know I can trust you and we have always told each other things in confidence. But you know those stories that mom used to tell us about the The Guardian of the Seocheon Flower Field and the Dragon King? Those old folktales that she learned from the local shaman in her village? They’re…they’re true. It’s real. I know it’s going to sound fake saying this, but I saw it with my own eyes. Kyungsoo saved himself that day, although I don’t think I should give any more details. He’s truly incredible…_

He quickly finished off his letter with a few more updates and ended with some comforting words. Seungwon hesitated as he folded the letter into threes and stuffed it into an envelope to be sent out. Should he be telling his brother about Kyungsoo? It went directly against what the Queen had asked of him. But he thought the news would be exciting to his brother, who always loved hearing the stories more than he did, and his brother sorely needed some cheering up in his life. He could trust Siwon to keep it a secret. Besides, he would cut off his own foot before he let harm come to the princes’ way, anyway.

* * *

🌻

  


A few months later, Seungwon had received a call urging his immediate presence outside of the castle. The same day, Prince Kyungsoo disappeared from his room. 

Neither of them were ever seen again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot i have a google doc version of this chapter...next chapter won't be up for awhile though because my computer is down :(

Kyungsoo hums as he fills up his plastic green watering can from their rainwater barrel. He heaves the can up with a grunt, straining his shoulders slightly, as he ambles towards the potted plants alongside the rear-facing windows in the cottage. Baekhyun follows closely beside him, his stubby little legs tottering busily as he catches up to Kyungsoo’s pace.

The rear of the house is the best place for growing plants. The windows are much larger than can be found in his own room, or in Siwon’s, letting in enough light for plants to thrive. There are leafy greens overrunning this area, something that Siwon has scolded Kyungsoo for more than once—”Kyungsoo, I almost tripped over the spider plant _again_ , can’t you do something about it? The house is starting to look like an invasive species”—but Kyungsoo finds it beautiful. 

The cottage itself is quite small, enough for Kyungsoo to live in with his two puppies and Baekhyun, and Siwon too when he’s home. The plants and flowers make him feel happier, less alone. They always have. 

Singing softly under his breath, Kyungsoo starts up his routine of watering the indoor plants, dipping his finger into the soil to check their moisture levels. He takes the time to stroke the spindly vines of the spider plants, and they shiver contently against his touch, curling around his finger as if in an embrace.

“Here you go,” he says as he carefully waters each pot. They all vary in shapes and sizes, with his echeveria being the smallest and his overgrown spider plant, spilling over the edges in a messy entanglement of vines, being the largest. His jade pothos teasingly leans away from him when Kyungsoo reaches it, and he laughs under his breath as he pats it fondly on its heart-shaped leaves.

Baekhyun helps where he can, his furry snout pushing some of the pots closer towards Kyungsoo to indicate which ones still need watering. Some of the pots tower over him, and he waits patiently beside them instead.

“Thanks, Baekhyunnie,” Kyungsoo says, stooping down to pat his tiny head.

“You should be,” he snarks, but he’s curling into Kyungsoo’s pats anyways, begging for more scritches behind his fox-like ears. “What would you do without me?”

He’s not sure when exactly they began living together, but Baekhyun has always been there by his side ever since Kyungsoo could remember. Of course, back then he was even smaller than he is now. They grew up together. Siwon tells him that he brought Baekhyun over when he rescued Kyungsoo as a baby and brought them both to Jukdo Island, where they live now, so that Kyungsoo would never be lonely.

It’s something Kyungsoo will always remain grateful to Siwon for, alongside raising and protecting him all these years. Baekhyun is the only one Kyungsoo has ever had a conversation with besides Siwon. 

Baekhyun is his best friend. 

But he knows that Baekhyun isn’t normal. Unlike either him or Siwon or some of the other humans that Kyungsoo has seen in books and magazines, Baekhyun is tiny with stubby legs and a fluffy orange-brown coat of fur that sheds _way_ too much during the spring and fall—another thing that leads to scoldings from Siwon—and triangular ears that stick straight out of his head. Siwon tells Kyungsoo that Baekhyun is a dog. A Pembroke Welsh Corgi, just a different breed than Meokmul and Huchu, but Meokmul and Huchu can’t talk to him and understand him like Baekhyun can.

Although their situation perplexes them both, Kyungsoo had long decided that it didn’t matter why they looked so different as long as they could stay by each other’s side. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kyungsoo grumbles, but he gives into Baekhyun’s whims nonetheless and focuses on scratching him. He pants happily. After a few more seconds, he stands back up and heaves the watering can into his arms once more. “C’mon, we have more plants to water.”

Together, the pair make their way out the wooden back door and into the backyard where Kyungsoo’s garden lies. It’s quite small, although bustling with vibrant colours that liven up the island. He had begged Siwon more than once for permission to expand his garden—they’re the only inhabitants of the island after all—but Siwon had only told him to be grateful for allowing him a dedicated space to garden in the first place.

They meander through the garden as they water the plot, weaving through rows of azaleas, tulips, orchids, marigolds, daisies, yarrow, peonies, penstemon. He pauses with each flower and sings to them softly, Baekhyun joining in and harmonizing, and he smiles in fondness when he sees them bustling and dancing to their music. 

A fresh breeze flows through his garden, and the sweet scent of the blooming flowers wash over him, filling him with a deep sense of comfort. The petals wave in the wind, and Kyungsoo can hear the familiar sound of bustling leaves as he curls his toes into the grass underneath his feet. Birds circle overhead, letting out melodic cries in their ascent, and if his puppies were there with him instead of napping in his room, they would have tried chasing after them excitedly. The sun is setting now, time having past quickly as Kyungsoo completed his daily errands around the cottage, and it casts a warm golden glow over his garden. 

Kyungsoo offers a gentle touch on the rough bark of the golden bell tree that stands proudly over the garden. In case his Korean pine gets jealous, he pays some attention to it as well, and its leaves bustle merrily in response.

Along the way, he makes sure the pick out bunches of fresh freesia, rose, and a tinier bundle of nectarine blossom.

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he cradles them gently in the palm of his hands. They shiver back. 

Together, they head back into the cottage. Kyungsoo wrenches the wooden door open, and Baekhyun follows him inside. He hears two sharp yips, and the sound of small feet pattering on the wood flooring, and he sees his two puppies racing towards him. Meokmul and Huchu must have just woken up from their afternoon nap. 

He laughs, sitting on the ground as he picks them both up in his arms and hugs them close to his face, rubbing his cheek against their soft, fluffy curls as they lick at his nose. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” he says, and they bark in unison.

Not one to be left out, Baekhyun shoves his way into Kyungsoo’s lap, accidentally knocking his glasses askew, and parks his fluffy butt down. He headbutts at Kyungsoo’s chin until he awkwardly manages to maneuver a hand free to pet him as well. 

Pressing one last kiss to Meokmul and Huchu’s snouts, Kyungsoo gets up from his spot on the floor. Baekhyun lets out a little yip of discontent when he’s unceremoniously dumped on the ground, but Kyungsoo ignores him in favour for padding into the kitchen. Kyungsoo quickly grabs the kibble from the closet and fills up their doggy bowls. When they finish eating, he decides to start his next set of errands. 

In the kitchen, Kyungsoo greets his aloe vera from where she sits in partial shade on the window sill.

“What are you making for dinner?” Baekhyun asks, nipping lightly at Kyungsoo’s ankles as he rummages through the old, clunky refrigerator for ingredients. His stock is running low, and he made a mental note to harvest some more vegetables soon. 

“Just a simple stew.” He pulls out a fresh bundle of oyster mushrooms and beansprouts, anchovies, along with some fermented soybean paste that Siwon had got for him as last year’s birthday gift.

He had forgotten about this year’s birthday, but Kyungsoo is okay with that. He knows Siwon must have been busy.

“Again?” Baekhyun whines. He hates kibble, a fact that he never fails to remind Kyungsoo of.

“If you’re not going to cook, then you have no say in the matter.”

“That’s not fair, I would totally cook if I had the thumbs to do so,” Baekhyun says. He runs in a circle around Kyungsoo’s legs, almost tripping him up as he walks to the stove.

“You’d need the height too,” Kyungsoo retorts. He starts up the stove. It takes a few attempts before a flame successfully sputters from the stove.

“You say that like you’re so tall!”

Kyungsoo lets the anchovies simmer in the pot before he turns his attention to washing and cutting the rest of the ingredients. “I could be average height at the very least. You don’t know that I’m not.”

“You’re at least a head shorter than Siwon.”

“Maybe Siwon is the abnormal one,” Kyungsoo says, but then immediately feels guilty. He doesn’t feel right talking about his guardian so disrespectfully.

Baekhyun huffs and doesn’t bother deigning him with a response. He totters out of the kitchen, his little nub of a tail wagging, but Kyungsoo pays him no mind.

Busying himself with his task at hand, Kyungsoo finishes prepping the ingredients for the stew and as he’s waiting for the water to boil over for his stew, he decides to start on creating Siwon’s special blend. He washes the knife and sets out a second pot on the stove.

Kyungsoo fills the second pot up with water. His water supply for the month is running low, and he hopes that Siwon returns home soon with a new supply. Kyungsoo glances at the calendar pinned on the fridge door by a gaudy “I <3 Korea” magnet that Siwon got him for his 15th birthday. He should be—he drinks the blend that Kyungsoo makes for him every month and it was already nearing the end of March. 

Gently, he gathers up the bundle of flowers he picked in the garden earlier and sets them down on a soft piece of tissue. He starts pulling off individual petals and small buds, piling them up on the tissue. Once he’s left with a small pile of flower petals, he checks on the water and deems it hot enough to start steeping, and stirs the petals in. 

Kyungsoo sings as he works, a sweet, flowing melody that always pops into his mind when he’s working with the blend. He crushes in a fresh licorice root, just a small enough slice that wouldn’t be overpowering. Once the root has been infused into the blend, he sprinkles in a smattering of sun-dried rose hips. A floral aroma fills up the air, and Kyungsoo smiles at the familiarity and warmth that rushes through him at the scent. He can hear birds tweeting outside, and he pushes the window open to hear their song. 

It feels almost like they’re harmonizing with him.

As Kyungsoo nears the end of his song, the water takes on a shimmery sheen, almost golden under the setting sun streaming through the open window. He lowers the temperature, letting the water simmer, and he hums the last few notes as he stirs the pot.

Satisfied with another successful brew that will helpfully make Siwon happy, Kyungsoo continues with making his stew. His blend will need to simmer on the stove for another hour before he can pour it into a vial to pass to Siwon once he comes home.

For as long as he could remember, Kyungsoo had always felt an affinity to the earth and the soil, to the life that grows within it and blooms into beautiful leafy greens and vibrant petals. He remembers asking Siwon about it once, when he was only 7 or 8 years old, and Siwon had told him that he’s abnormal. Baekhyun scoffed when he heard this, and said that Kyungsoo was special. 

Kyungsoo had never once felt special in his life, but he knows that not everyone can speak to the flowers and feel the magic flowing through their stems and in his veins.

It’s as if they’re a part of him, in his blood.

Abnormal or not, Kyungsoo knows that he can use these powers for good. He can help Siwon, who has protected him all these years from the outside world because he knew that Kyungsoo would never be accepted. Who was abandoned as a child because of his strangeness, taken in only by a stranger who left his bakery shop to care for him.

And it’s because of this gratitude that Kyungsoo brews these blends for Siwon, who said that the least Kyungsoo could do was to help him stay healthy.

He’s not entirely sure how it started, but he knows he used to point out the flowers in the garden for Siwon to pick with his chubby fingers when he was still a child. But one year, Siwon had taken a look at the mirror--and Kyungsoo is not sure what he saw, maybe fine lines in his face, or a stray grey hair—but it left him angry and fuming and ever since then, Kyungsoo has been in charge of making the blend from start to finish.

* * *

🌻

When the sun sets fully, Kyungsoo shutters the windows close against the cooler evening air and bids good night to his plants. He pads through the cottage, shivering slightly at the cold floorboards under his bare feet, and heads towards the bathroom with his puppies close to his heels. He washes up quickly and brushes his teeth before returning to his room for the night.

He switches on the floor lamp in his room, and the walls are awashed with a slightly dingy yellow glow. Baekhyun’s small furry lump is in the middle of his bed—he must have fallen asleep after dinner—and Kyungsoo carefully treads around his room, quietly, as he changes into a pair of comfortable, worn pajamas.

His room is quite small, nothing compared to Siwon, who even has an ensuite bathroom. In one corner, there are two unused small dog beds for Meokmul and Huchu, who never sleep anywhere but with Kyungsoo. There’s a small window above his twin bed, where he keeps his snake plant and peace lily, and a small desk tucked in the opposite corner of his bed. It’s made of wood, and has slightly uneven legs. One of the drawers is missing too, but besides his garden and the kitchen, it’s where Kyungsoo spent most of his time growing up. 

At one point, Siwon had let him watch the television. His guardian had bought the TV after complaining about how boring the island was. Kyungsoo used to watch dramas, his eyes enraptured by the people on the screen, the way they connected with each other, and the city landscapes with humongous buildings that seemed blinding with the amount of light they gave off. He had asked Siwon about those places, what it was like to be there, but Siwon only warned him of how dangerous it would be for him out there.

And soon he was mostly restricted to animated shows. He watched a lot of _Pororo_ , but when cell phones became popular usage, Siwon cancelled the cable network. It didn’t matter that Kyungsoo wasn’t given a phone, as long as the older man could connect to the LTE network as a source of entertainment when he was home.

Sometimes, Siwon would bring home a battered copy of a book and give it to Kyungsoo. He has a small shelf on top of his desk, lined with books with ripped covers and yellowed pages. It can be hard for him to focus on text for too long though, his eyesight poor and words often blurring on the page. 

But still. He wonders, sometimes, what is out there in the world. What he’s missing. 

“Why are you just standing there like an idiot?” Baekhyun’s voice pipes up, slightly grumbly from sleep.

Kyungsoo must have woken up him with all his puttering. He takes off his glasses and places it on the desk and climbs onto the bed, shoving at Baekhyun to make room for him. He accidentally jolts Huchu, who’s sleeping all curled up next to Meokmul at the edge of the mattress. He apologizes to them, rubbing at their floppy little ears. 

“Just thinking,” he answers.

“Don’t hurt your head doing that,” Baekhyun teases. He licks at Kyungsoo’s hand to show he’s joking. Kyungsoo grimaces at the wetness and wipes it on his fur. 

Kyungsoo snuggles up close to Baekhyun, petting his hand through his fluff and rubbing at his belly. “Baekhyun?”

“Hm?” Baekhyun groans, his eyes half-closed. 

“What do you think is out there? Besides this island?”

“The rest of Korea,” he says sarcastically, but with no real bite to it.

Kyungsoo huffs and stops scratching his belly in retribution. “Stop joking around. What do you think it’s like? Do you think it’s filled with as much evil as Siwon says?”

Baekhyun rolls over so he’s facing Kyungsoo. “I don’t know, Kyungja,” he says, slipping Kyungsoo’s childhood nickname in. His tone is serious, but soft. “You ask this question a lot, and it’s obvious you want to find out. Why don’t you ask Siwon again if he can take you off the island for a bit?”

“I don’t know if he would let me. You know how mad he got at me last time I asked.”

“But you’re older now. He can’t keep you here forever. You’re dependent on him to bring your water source. What will you do if he never comes back?”

Kyungsoo shivers at the thought and buries his face in Baekhyun’s fur. He doesn’t want to think about that. He’s already so alone, even with Baekhyun and Meokmul and Huchu. 

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun says soothingly. He licks the tip of Kyungsoo’s nose. “I think you should ask. I’ll be with you, don’t worry about it. The worst he can say is no, right?”

He nods, the movement barely visible against Baekhyun’s fluffiness. 

“Besides, you could always threaten to stop making him batches of those infusions every month. You know he sells them off to make money, right?”

“Hey! He does not. He wouldn’t,” Kyungsoo says. He peels his face off from Baekhyun’s tiny and stout body, glaring at him. “He said it would be dangerous if anyone found out about my flowers. Why would he put me or him in danger like that?”

Baekhyun sighs. This isn’t the first time they had this conversation. “Then what would he be doing with all of them?”

“He wouldn’t,” Kyungsoo repeats, adamantly. “He wouldn’t do that to us.”

* * *

🌻

Kyungsoo’s fussing over his herbs when Siwon returns home a few days later. 

He’s in the back garden again, checking over his drainage system as Baekhyun lays on his back and absorbs the warmth from the sun. They woke up late today, Kyungsoo having been busy the night before preparing a new batch of blends and infusions for Siwon to take with him on his next journey. He had been distracted as he worked, and accidentally soaked the cinnamon bark for far too long and had to start over. 

He can hear Huchu and Meokmul whining at the door, begging to be let out, but Kyungsoo has made the mistake of letting them in the garden with him one too many times. He’s not about to let them rampage loose amongst his flower beds.

Although his flowers—always responsive to his songs and touch—are his favourite, his herb garden is a close second. He takes in the aromatic scent of the perilla leaves as he works, the mintiness refreshing to his senses. The leaves are ready to be harvested soon, and Kyungsoo eagerly awaits for when he can next toast the perilla seeds for vegetable oil.

Kyungsoo is lost in his thoughts when he hears a familiar set of footsteps coming up behind him, measured in its pacing as always. He turns around, excited, and a smile blooms on his face when he sees the tall figure of his guardian walking up the path through his garden to the cottage.

“Siwon!” Kyungsoo says, waving his hand as he gets up from where he was bent over the soil. He ignores the slight crick in his neck in favour for bounding up to the taller man. 

Siwon looks nearly the same as he had even ten years ago—tall, well built, with dark hair and piercing eyes. He has his customary stubble, giving him a neat, but rugged look. He retains the youth of someone in their 30s, although Kyungsoo was sure he had to have been 50 or 60 years old by now. His skin seems more tanned than usual, Kyungsoo notes. A little more sun-kissed than he normally is.

“Kyungsoo,” Siwon greets back. He scrutinizes the smaller man, glancing critically at his dirt-stained jeans from where he was kneeling on the ground. It makes Kyungsoo squirm, feeling suddenly ashamed of how unkempt he must look in comparison to Siwon.

“How was your trip?” Kyungsoo asks, scuffing his feet on the ground. He clasps his arms behind his back as he waits for Siwon to respond.

The taller man begins walking again, heading straight towards the cottage, and Kyungsoo hurriedly follows behind him. “It was the same as always. Hard work earning money to keep us both alive, as you know. Business called me to go further down south and it was hellish getting there. People truly are scum, you know that, Kyungsoo? The ferry tried to rip me off of my money!” he rants.

They enter the cottage, the wooden door giving a familiar groan when it opens. The puppies startle from where they were resting on the floor by the door, and they scamper into Kyungsoo’s room. Siwon continues ranting as he walks to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kyungsoo responds earnestly, his eyes wide. Siwon pulls out a chair at the small dining table and sits down. 

“I do this for you, Kyungsoo,” he says. Siwon’s voice is saccharine sweet now, different from the distant tone he was using before. “I go out there and make money, all so you can stay safe here.”

Kyungsoo nods, feeling himself flush, and he looks down at his feet on the floor. “I know,” he says, his voice hushed.

“Come here,” Siwon demands. Kyungsoo obeys immediately, shuffling closer to the seated man. Even sitting, he’s still the same height as Kyungsoo, and he easily reaches up with one hand and grazes his cold fingers over Kyungsoo’s cheeks. 

Kyungsoo flinches.

“None of that, don’t be shy now. Let me see how you’ve been doing,” Siwon says. He traces the pad of his thumb along Kyungsoo’s soft cheeks, stroking downwards. His hands glide downwards, and he picks up both of Kyungsoo’s hands, making a small noise of disgust when he notices the dirt gathered underneath his fingernails. Nonetheless, he examines his hands carefully, nodding in satisfaction when it seems otherwise in good shape.

Siwon shifts in his chair, letting go of Kyungsoo, and sits back. “Sing for me.”

Obediently, Kyungsoo croons a soft melody, one he heard on the TV many years ago. His voice wavers slightly with embarrassment, and he flinches again when he sees Siwon glare at the unsteadiness of his vocals.

When he finishes the song, Siwon nods sharply. “You could do better, but you’re in pretty good condition still. Good job,” he says. Kyungsoo flushes at the praise, something warm lighting up inside of him. “But you still need to take care of yourself more. Wash your hands.”

Kyungsoo hurries to listen, rushing to the container of water he keeps in the kitchen for food prep, and washes his hands in the sink. 

Every time Siwon comes home, he always spends a few minutes examining Kyungsoo on his condition. It always leaves him flustered and feeling a slight tinge of shame, and he’s never sure what kind of mood Siwon will be in—but at the same time, he knows it’s a sign that Siwon still cares about him.

Why else would he care so much about Kyungsoo’s wellbeing?

Suddenly, Siwon glances at the beautiful, gold watch adorned on his wrist and yawns, stretching his arms over his head in a big, exaggerated motion. “I’m _so_ tired—all this hard work has me _exhausted_ ,” he says. He looks pointedly at Kyungsoo.

“Oh!” Kyungsoo says, standing straighter with attention. He rushes to one of the cabinets where he keeps his infusions in a cool, dark environment and takes out a vial. It’s the blend he made for Siwon yesterday, a beautiful, shimmering liquid with flecks of gold that catch the light coming in through the window. He hands it to his guardian.

Siwon downs it in one go, his face twisting into a sharp smile, looking like the cat that got the cream.

“How is it?” Kyungsoo asks, eagerly.

For the first time, Siwon turns his smile towards Kyungsoo. “You did a good job,” he says. Kyungsoo bashfully shuffles his feet on the ground. “Keep it up, Kyungsoo.” 

He’s glad he could make Siwon happy. 

“Where’s that dog friend of yours, by the way?” Kyungsoo opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted when Siwon continues talking. “Nevermind, I’m feeling pretty tired. I’m going to head to my room and nap. You kept it clean, right?”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth again, before closing it and nodding meekly. It’s true, he makes sure it stays clean and free of dust every day, just in case Siwon comes back unannounced. 

“Okay, great. Make a good dinner tonight,” he says. Siwon leaves the room without another glance at the smaller boy. 

A piece of paper flutters out from his pocket, unnoticed by the taller man, and Kyungsoo picks it up. It’s crumpled and slightly ripped at the corners, and was clearly stuffed into his back pocket and forgotten about. Kyungsoo makes out the words _Jeju Island_ and _Travel Guide_ before he hears the sound of the door opening, and quickly, he folds the pamphlet back up. It’s just Baekhyun, coming in from the garden after his nap, and not Siwon like he had feared. 

Kyungsoo hides the pamphlet in his own pocket. He still needs to finish his afternoon errands for the day—and make dinner for Siwon. He will take a closer look with Baekhyun later.

* * *

🌻

After taking his puppies out for a romp around the yard and watering his plants, Kyungsoo remains busy for the rest of the day between preparing dinner with the household and ensuring he has a full batch of blends to present to Siwon when he comes out for dinner. His guardian’s mood oscillates wildly whenever he’s home, and he knows it’s best to do exactly as he’s instructed to keep Siwon as happy as possible. 

It’s a routine now, that Siwon comes home around twice a month—once a month, at least, to drink the vitality infusion that Kyungsoo brews for him—and checks on Kyungsoo. More often than not, he expects Kyungsoo to have an additional six vials ready for him, although these Kyungsoo keeps in stashes in the pantry. He always leaves with the six vials, telling Kyungsoo that they’re for him to take in case he runs into trouble in the outside world and can’t make it home in time.

He’s not sure where Baekhyun is—probably napping in his room again with the puppies, the lazy thing—but his words from last night about Siwon selling the infusions pass through his mind. Kyungsoo shakes his head. No, it’s no use doubting Siwon like that. He wouldn’t raise Kyungsoo all by himself just to put them both in danger by exposing outsiders to his infusions.

It’s _for_ Kyungsoo that Siwon so often ventures off the island and into what he describes to Kyungsoo as the dangerous society beyond their island. Kyungsoo suppresses a shudder of the images that flash through his mind, all the horror stories that Siwon has told him about—war, violence, nuclear threat, perversion. But Jukdo doesn’t have running water, and their rainwater barrel only collects enough during the rainy seasons, and so Siwon takes it upon himself to outsource water from a neighbouring island. 

Kyungsoo pauses amidst his thoughts, petting the aloe vera on the window sill, running his fingers over the soft, serrated teeth on its thick and fleshy leaves. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Kyungsoo coos. The plant nibbles on his finger a little in response, and Kyungsoo giggles. 

His plants always know how to cheer him up.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he arranges the six stoppered vials into the air-tight, well-padded sealed container that Siwon takes with him on his travels. Placing the container on the small dining table by Siwon’s seat, Kyungsoo returns to the stove and checks on his braised pollock. It’s the last of his stock, from Siwon’s Christmas present to him, and Kyungsoo had saved it for special occasions, like Siwon’s homecoming dinners. 

Just as he finishes plating the fish and setting out the side dishes, Siwon emerges from the bedroom and takes a seat at the table. He glances at Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo hurries to pour him a glass of filtered water from the fridge. 

Taking a sip from the glass of water, Siwon traces a finger around the edge of the container on the table. “Is this the next batch?”

“Yes!” Kyungsoo busies himself with bringing out the utensils, and also fills up the dog bowls with some food. 

Siwon unzips the container, and studies the vials inside, bringing them up to the light as he scrutinizes each one. He nods in satisfaction, and sets them back inside. “Perfect, as always. I’ve raised you well, Kyungsoo.” 

Feeling the tips of his ears burn, Kyungsoo nods bashfully. Hearing praise from Siwon fills him with satisfaction, that he has valuable contributions to make when Siwon always tells him how hard he has to work to keep Kyungsoo alive.

The soft creak of the door sounds from one corner of the cottage, and a few seconds later, Baekhyun pads into the kitchen. The corgi is yawning widely, and Kyungsoo notices Siwon’s grimace.

“Oh, hey, Siwon,” Baekhyun says monotonously. “Didn’t see you there.”

Kyungsoo isn’t sure how, but Baekhyun never seems to feel the same mixture of shame and gratitude when facing Siwon.

Siwon ignores Baekhyun. Turning to Kyungsoo, he ruffles his hand through Kyungsoo’s messy locks. His bangs have been getting pretty long, he needs to find time to cut them again. “You worked hard today. Let’s eat now, Kyungsoo.” 

The rest of dinner passes quickly, with Siwon maintaining his good mood throughout the meal. It’s rare that he doesn’t have mood swings, but Kyungsoo hopes it’s because Siwon’s happy with his work.

Once Siwon is finished with his dinner, he hands his plate towards Kyungsoo. In his peripheral vision, he sees Baekhyun rolling his eyes, and Kyungsoo nudges a sharp elbow into his side, inciting a yelp. 

“You did good today,” Siwon compliments Kyungsoo. Standing up, he pats Kyungsoo on the head once more before heading to the mirror hanging on the wall right by the back door. Siwon studies himself in the mirror, peering closely at his face, one hand tracing over his smooth cheeks and fixing his styled hair. “Yep, you did good,” he echoes absentmindedly. 

Kyungsoo piles the plates in the sink for soaking. He checks on the water container—there’s only enough left for another week and a bit.

“Siwon?” Kyungsoo calls out. He walks up behind Siwon, who’s still admiring his reflection.

“Hm?”

“The water,” Kyungsoo trails off, hesitating. Siwon only just returned, and might not appreciate Kyungsoo asking him to collect more water. 

“What is it, Kyungsoo?” Siwon says. There’s a note of impatience in his voice.

Taking another step closer, Kyungsoo hovers awkwardly behind Siwon’s shoulder. Baekhyun treads out behind him, his toenails making tiny clicking sounds on the floorboards. “We’re almost out of water,” he says, quietly.

Siwon’s hands pause from where they’re combing through his hair, and the taller man is silent for a moment. “Already?” he says, voice deceptively calm. His back is still facing Kyungsoo.

“Y-Yes.”

He sighs. “Kyungsoo, I told you that I’ve been exhausted busting my ass out there for you, _risking_ my life just by leaving this island, trying so _desperately_ to make ends meet to keep you and your dogs alive, and you can’t even respect that?”

Behind him, he hears Baekhyun mutter “not a dog” under his breath. They both ignore him.

Kyungsoo cowers under the weight of his words, his eyes focused on the ground before his feet. “I-I’m sorry, but we just—there’s been no rain, and the plants take so much water, and maybe if I could use a cellphone to let you know in advance, I—” 

Siwon sighs again, heavier this time, finally turning around. His eyes are narrowed into angry slits, and Kyungsoo abruptly cuts himself off mid-sentence. “Great, now you’ve ruined my mood. You know why I can’t give you a cellphone, we don’t have the money for it. I’ll set out again tomorrow, happy?”

Meekly, Kyungsoo nods. “Thank you, Siwon,” he whispers. Suddenly, Baekhyun nips at Kyungsoo’s ankles, and Kyungsoo remembers, again, their conversation from last night. Shyly, he peers up at Siwon, who has turned back around to face the mirror again. “M-Maybe Baekhyun and I can come wi—”

“How many more things are you going to ask of me, Kyungsoo? Didn’t I teach you better than to be a spoiled brat?” Siwon yells, whipping around to glower at Kyungsoo again. Baekhyun makes a small sound of protest, but Kyungsoo shakes his head.

Heat rushes to his face, and his eyes feel like they’re burning. He sniffles, trying to hold back tears. He hates getting Siwon angry like this. It scares him.

“This conversation is finished. I’m leaving tomorrow, and you can expect me back in a few days with your water,” Siwon says. His voice is low, and the disappointment he hears in the elder’s voice fills Kyungsoo with a deep sense of shame. “You’re welcome.”

The taller man leaves the room, leaving behind a teary-eyed Kyungsoo. He feels Baekhyun licking at his ankle, and he scoops him up, hugging his friend close to his chest.

* * *

🌻

“He’s such an asshole,” Baekhyun fumes. Kyungsoo can feel the vibrations underneath him from where he has his face buried in Baekhyun’s soft fur. They’re lying on Kyungsoo’s bed, the small boy using Baekhyun as a pillow as he lays face down on his bed. 

He hears a soft whine next to him, and Kyungsoo pulls his head up to see Huchu sitting next to him, her big, black eyes staring balefully at him. He pulls his arm up from underneath him to pet her fur, careful not to jostle a sleeping Meokmul on his back. 

“I’m okay, girl,” he whispers, petting her underneath her chin where she likes it best.

“No!” Baekhyun barks, and Huchu startles a little. “Sorry, Huchu. Anyway—no, Kyungsoo, you’re not okay. And how he treats you isn’t okay.”

Kyungsoo sighs, and plants his face into Baekhyun’s fur again. “No, he’s right. He just got home, I should have waited until tomorrow at least. I have enough water to last that long. It was inconsiderate of me.”

He can feel Baekhyun growling, the vibrations from the low rumbling shaking him. “Look, Kyungsoo, I know you want to defend him because he said he brought you in when your parents abandoned you because of your powers. That you scared everyone off because you’re unnatural.”

Kyungsoo winces at the reminder.

“Stop that, I’m not done. He says you owe him for taking care of you, but I’m telling you, he has to be selling those vials or _something_ because he always comes back looking healthy, well-fed, and wearing fancy clothing.”

“Baekhyun—”

“And did you see his tan? It’s only nearing the end of winter _now_ , where would he even get a tan from?”

“Maybe he had to labour outside,” Kyungsoo suggests, but even his excuses sound weak to his ears.

“Haven’t you noticed how little time he spends around here anyway? He does the bare minimum when he’s here, and he treats you like his house servant.”

“Baekhyun, stop.” 

“He usually leaves as soon as you give him a new batch of vials to take with him, so he was going to leave anyway.”

“Baekhyun.”

“He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. He’s only nice to you when you do things for him, like keep him looking young, that vain _bastard_ —”

“Baekhyun!” Kyungsoo shouts. Disturbed from her sleep, Meokmul yelps and slides off his butt and onto the bed, where she cuddles next to Huchu instead. Sighing, Kyungsoo sweeps Baekhyun into his arms. “I appreciate you defending me, but...but this isn’t making me feel any better. In the end, I do still owe him for raising me. I don’t want to think about this anymore.”

The corgi is silent for a moment, before rolling over onto his back in Kyungsoo’s loose grasp. “Okay, fine. But that doesn’t change my mind on how I feel about him.”

“I know,” Kyungsoo says. He does know, Baekhyun hasn’t been a fan of Siwon for a long time now. But what can they do? They’re stuck here.

He sits up, still hugging Baekhyun. He hears the noise of paper crinkling underneath him as he shifts, and he suddenly remembers the pamphlet that fell from Siwon’s pocket earlier. Setting Baekhyun back down onto the bed, Kyungsoo carefully extracts the pamphlet from where he stuffed it in his jeans, and smooths it out on the bed covers.

In bold, yellow letters emblazoned at the top is the pamphlet are the words _JEJU ISLAND TRAVEL GUIDE_. Underneath it, _Everything you need to know about Korea’s Hawaii! The ‘Island of Three Abundances!’_ is written in smaller font. The cover of the pamphlet depicts a beautiful island surrounded by a deep blue sea, with a mountain protruding from the land. The top of the mountain is rounded off, as if someone took a bite out of it. 

Baekhyun sits up, craning his small head down at the piece of paper. “What is this?” he asks, his previous irritation forgotten. 

“It fell out of Siwon’s pocket earlier and I took it,” he responded, eyes transfixed on the pamphlet. 

Siwon never tells Kyungsoo about what the world beyond Jukdo looks like, saying it wouldn’t do him any good. The most he has ever seen were through the old television programs he used to watch, but that was years ago now. 

He traces a slim finger over the glossy pamphlet, and carefully opens it up. Inside, there’s an illustrated map of the island, along with a list of historical facts about the island. He skims over the text explaining about the mythological gods of their mountains, eyes catching onto the images of tourist attractions and famous foods instead.

His mouth waters, looking at the photos of hairtail fish, black pork, grilled mackerel, and sashimi, his eyes soaking in the photographs. Baekhyun nudges at Kyungsoo’s hand, moving it out of the way so he can see it better, and he apologizes.

But it’s the last image in the pamphlet that arrests his attention. 

It’s a photograph capturing an endless field of golden flowers, against a cloudless blue sky. The field stretches as far as eyes could see, and there are windmills scattered along the field, submerged almost between the waist-high petals. 

_Jeju Canola Flower Festival_ the tiny caption reads.

Kyungsoo’s eyes trace over the image, greedily drinking in the sight of the beautiful field. He has never seen so many flowers in one place before. 

He wonders if he can grow canola flowers here, too, in his own garden. 

“Wow, that’s beautiful,” he hears Baekhyun say, and he nods absentmindedly.

Kyungsoo pictures himself there, seeing the expansive field with his own eyes. He imagines being amongst those flowers, feeling the breeze, the dirt, the soft petals underneath his fingertips. He wonders what stories the flowers have to tell, if they would communicate with him at all.

When he sleeps that night, it’s to the unrestful dreams of him and Baekhyun amongst the flowers.

* * *

🌻

Murky grey clouds lurk ominously overhead, the skies looking as if it’s ready break into pouring rain at any second. Waves batter heavily against the pier, a shock of water crashing against the sides of the docked ferry. Passengers look on in worry as they wait to board the boat, a few even lining up to voice their concerns to the attendants.

A voice comes on over the PA system, crackling noisily over the speakers. " _Dear cherished guests: due to the current inclement weather conditions, the next ferries to Ulleungdo will be delayed for another half an hour. We advise our cherished guests to allot an extra hour to their travels to allow for the weather conditions to calm. We greatly apologize for the inconvenience and appreciate your kind understanding._ "

Chanyeol sighs and pulls his thin coat tighter around his tall frame. He’s wearing only a t-shirt underneath, and it pulls awkwardly where it’s tight around his biceps. Ever since he bulked up the past year, he has been meaning to buy new clothing to fit him better, but has been reluctant to spend money where he knows he could save. The coat doesn’t help him much against the cold air, but it’s better than nothing. Not much more he can do about it, at least. 

Glancing at his phone, he frowns when he sees the time. 6:30 AM. He has to meet his contact in Ulleungdo at 10 AM, and the ferry ride takes at least three hours. 

While not a morning person in general, Chanyeol needs the money from the job. He sighs again. Rubbing a hand over his face in irritation, he slumps further down in his seat in the frigid waiting area, and sends off a quick text to his contact to let him know of the likely delays in his arrival. 

_lol np man. it happens. just keep me in the loop_ comes the quick response. He hasn’t met with Kim Jongin before—he’s just a name that his boss sent him—but Chanyeol’s grateful that he seems a lot more calm than some of the other people he had to sell to. 

There isn’t much more he can do now than wait. 

When the crackling announcement finally announces they can board the ferry, it’s already nearing 7:30 AM. The rain has stopped and although the wind doesn’t seem much better, Chanyeol is grumpy and tired. His stomach rumbling from hunger, but he doesn’t want to dip into his savings to buy food until he can get the cash from Jongin.

It would be nice to quickly finish the job and go home, even though it’ll be nearly a four hour commute from the ferry port back to his shabby apartment that he shares with Sehun in Seoul. 

Once aboard the ferry, Chanyeol sits as close as possible to the sliding door that leads out to the deck. Thankfully, the ferry he’s on is one of the newer models—with a nice outdoor deck that passengers could escape to and enjoy the sea breeze during the nicer months. For Chanyeol, it’s the security of knowing he can escape the claustrophobia of a crowded boat induced by seasickness, an unfortunately common ailment for him even though he travels around Korea by ferry often.

With a jolt, the boat begins its journey across the waters from the Gangneung terminal. Even without the rain, the winds are still rough and the boat shakes and trembles under the weight of the harsh waves. 

Chanyeol groans, shoving headphones into his ears and turning on some music. He’s worried about the battery life of his phone, but he needs a distraction from the quakiness. Already, he can feel himself getting nauseous. Bending his head between his knees, he arranges himself as well as he can, given his long and clumsy limbs, and focuses on his breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

He lasts like this for the next three hours. The ferry ride remains tumultuous and turbulent, but nothing he can’t handle--for the most part. Chanyeol knows he can hear some aunties murmuring around him, one even patting him on the back with a “poor boy, what a poor boy” in commiseration. 

Chanyeol curses in his head. He hates this part of the job, and he delights himself in the fantasy of being rich enough to never, ever have to ride another ferry in his life.

A man could dream.

Finally, after three hours, the ferry captain announces a fifteen minute arrival time to Ulleungdo, and Chanyeol inwardly cheers, counting down the minutes until he can get off this godforsaken boat, finally meet Kim Jongin, and then get home as soon as possible with his wallet thicker and pockets lined with cash.

But then a particularly jarring wave rocks the boat, nearly throwing Chanyeol out of his seat, and Chanyeol feels his heart leap into his throat and his stomach churn. Bile rises in his throat, and he can taste it at the back of his mouth. He ignores the gasps coming from the old ladies around him, all equally surprised by the sudden rockiness, and focuses harder on his breathing. With a sharp inhale, Chanyeol wrenches his eyes shut as he breathes in his nose, willing the urge to throw up to go away.

As luck would have it, yet another wave hits the side of the boat, slamming Chanyeol against the pillar next to his seat. He dry heaves, once, twice, and then he knows, he has to get out of there, he’s going to be sick, he has to--

Without another thought, just blindly on instinct, Chanyeol rushes for the sliding door near his seat and pushes it open. He runs himself, just barely stopping himself from slamming into the security rail, and then he’s bending over, face over the water, and throwing up the remnants of the dry cereal he ate earlier for a quick breakfast.

He groans deeply, palms clammy now, as he spits a few time to get rid of the gross sick taste in his mouth.

Fucking piece of _shit_ of a life, he thinks, bitterly, as he roughly wipes at his face with his sleeve. 

Once he’s sure that he has nothing else to throw up, Chanyeol turns back around to head into the ferry. He’s glad no one followed him out here, and he’s not particularly keen on returning to an enclosed space where everyone knows what just happened, but it’s better than staying out the freezing cold.

He takes one step towards the door, and is about to take another, when a third wave crashes into the ferry, and he stumbles, unsteady on his feet. Cursing, Chanyeol tries to balance himself, but he fails and falls back, slamming hard into the railing behind him. Another wave collides into the boat, even harsher than the last, and before he knows it, he’s head over heels and falling back, and back, and back, and _back_...

...and then he’s submerged into the icy water, his ears ringing and lungs burning.

And then it all goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we meet chanyeol! next chapter, we finally get chansoo to interact with each other. thanks for being patient as i roll these chapters out!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/sooblushes)
> 
> let me know your thoughts in comments :)

**Author's Note:**

> i know the first chapter drags on a little because it's all backstory, but stay with me on this!
> 
> kudos to anyone who can find allusions to pre-existing mythology ♥
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](twitter.com/sooblushes)


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